Mary

If everything that lives,
lives in me,
it is too heavy for me to carry.
I am fragile as a cloud,
lighter than a wing,
less profound than a flower.
If I was meant to be anything
I would be alone with the mountains.
I would put my arms
around every living thing.
I would be so open
the wind could not find me.
I would be so in love
I would cherish the stones
under my feet.
That is what I am,
space between the pieces of an atom.

Then how could I be so?
Because of you.
Because I needed feet
to find you.
Eyes to see you.
Lips to shape your name.
And a soul to be where you are,
a light at the center of my darkness
so you can find me,
and I a candle before your face,
to show the world,
how much more beautiful you are
than anything I have ever known.
That everything is so,
that is so.
So much is love.